Dear Poet:

You are a complete fuckwadded blog-sucking idiot.

Narcissistic subgenius.

How about pus-stained brillo swab?

Does that one fit?

Now do you understand?

Oh, right.

Poets like you.

But guess what?

Poetry hates you.

When poetry comes to town, it sees you and turns the other way.

And here's my take on poetic seduction:

Fuck you.

Copyright this, my pit bull. Bullshit.

Just in case you missed that: fuck you.

Abusive? Abusive of what? Your overinflated ego? Your collection of progressive march pins? The skid mark you left behind in the public facilities? The minorities who "happen to" be considered by you as your friends when you need a trophy of your forward-thinkingness? Your embracing of meaningless "muscular language" or formal tropes full of gas?

Write something good.

Or get off the pot.

Forget yourself and poetry will follow.


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